The Phantom's Aria
by candy2112
Summary: Knowing that Christine was not his true love, Erik believes he will end up all alone, never knowing love as it should be. Before he can give up on life completely, however, a second chance allows him to see the mistakes he made and have a chance at a life worth living. Will he make the same mistakes again, or will he finally get his chance at a happy ending? Rating may go up!
1. Chapter 1

**Ah! I'm so excited! So, this is my first 'phanfic', but not my first fanfic, if you catch my drift. Please tell me what you think and review! This story, while there is a form of higher power in the beginning, is not religious or supernatural in any way. Though, if you'd like, you can picture the "higher power" which you will be introduced to in this chapter, as some kind of religious figure. This will be one of the only, if not the only, chapter(s) where the "higher power" is mentioned, so if you don't want any sort of religious figure, then hopefully you can get past the first chapter and continue on with the story.**

 **On a side note, if anyone would like to make a cover for this story, then please, by all means, do so! Whoever does, if anyone does at all, will have this story dedicated to them and will be mentioned in the beginning of every chapter (so it is a good way for aspiring authors on this site to get there name out! Hint, hint!). If you do decide to make a cover, please PM me and tell me that you are doing so, that way I can give you my email address and it will be easier to get the cover to me.**

 **Disclaimer: I do NOT own The Phantom of the Opera. That privilege goes to a man far more imaginative than I….**

The silence that settled around Erik was all he needed to know he was truly alone. When Christine had kissed him, though it felt nice and he wished he could kiss her once more, it was not what he expected from his 'true love'. For so long he had been pining over her, teaching her, _perfecting her_ , but now he realized that he only felt the need to do those things because of her voice. She had the voice of an angel, and he knew, deep down, that that was what really attracted him to her. It was not her personality, nor was it her appearance, though she was beautiful. Erik knew that the only reason he grew to love her was because of her angelic voice. It was with those thoughts, however depressing they were to Erik, that he let his angel go, knowing she would never be truly happy with him. Now, though, as he sat on the floor next to the swan bed, he contemplated what his next move should be. Maybe he should stay and be caught by the angry mob he could vaguely hear, or maybe he should find an exit and make his way into the unknown. Neither option sounded particularly pleasant at the moment, but he had to make a decision fast.

Using the last of his strength, he pushed to his feet and moved to his most secret escape route. Pulling aside the curtain, Erik was momentarily surprised at his appearance, forgetting that his mask lay forgotten on the floor somewhere. His eyes traced his deformed face, letting a scowl mar his already hideous features, before an intense rage filled him to the core. Grabbing the nearest object, which happened to be a candelabra, Erik stepped to one of his many mirrors. Sneering at his image, he let out a single cry, not unlike that of an angered animal, and brought the candelabra down onto the fragile surface of the mirror. His scowl turned into a crazed smirk, one Erik knew was frightening to even the bravest of men. Moving to the next mirror, taking care to avoid gazing at his face, Erik once more smashed the glass, taking a sick kind of pleasure in the way the glass shattered. Once he was satisfied that the mirror was completely broken, he moved to the last mirror in his so called 'home'. Raising the candelabra once again, Erik brought the object down for the last time, striking the glass and shattering it immediately. Before he could take any pleasure in his handy work, however, the world around him faded to black, the only sound was that of the mob getting closer to his home.

Erik had to admit that he had been knocked unconscious many times before. Most of those times were when he was younger and still held captive in the cage, but he still remembered what it felt like to be unconscious. This time, he thought, was different, and he didn't like it. Instead of feeling like he was floating, it was as if he was standing in a dark room, unable to see, even with his peculiar eye sight. Turing and trying to figure out where he was, Erik was startled out of his panic by a voice. "Do not fret, my child, you are safe." Erik nearly growled at the disembodied voice, not liking the fact that he was not in control.

"Who are you and what do you want from me?" He spat, his voice shaking with anger.

"I am no one and everyone. I am nowhere, but I am always around. But you are not here to learn who I am. No, you are here to get your second chance." The voice said. Erik, try as he might, could not locate where the voice was coming from, his own frustration growing to a new height.

"Do not speak in riddles. I demand that you tell me what you want with me, now!" Erik clenched his fingers into a fist, needing to release some of his rage, if only a little. The voice, still seeming to be nowhere, but everywhere at the same time, let out a sight.

"You are here for your second chance, Erik." Erik opened his mouth to speak, more like scream, once more, but the voice cut him off. "Let me finish, child. During your life, you made many wrong choices, some worse than others, but one choice in particular is the one I am referring to. Your entire life you have yearned for love, be it from your mother, your friend, or your romantic interest. You thought you found someone who could love you when you heard her voice, but you were wrong. Instead of choosing Christine, you should have chosen someone else. All you were ever meant to be to Christine was her teacher, and in time, her friend; never her lover. However, there was a girl you were destined to be with, but you threw it all away when you heard Christine. This woman would have loved you through everything, held you when you needed it, and accepted you when no others would. She was made for you, and you don't even know she exists."

Erik didn't say a word, too shocked to speak, but his mind was moving at a fast pace, trying to figure out if what the voice said was true or not. "W-who is she?" Stuttering out the question, Erik waited, impatiently, for the answer.

"She is your muse, your angel, your _aria_. She is your reason for living, and she is why you are getting a second chance, my child. Do not take this lightly. When you wake up, you will begin once more on the path of which you choose. Your choices will decide your fate, so choose wisely. Believe me when I tell you, Erik, that when you meet her, you will know." It took only a moment for Erik to comprehend the words from the disembodied voice, but in that moment, he felt himself start to wake up.

"Wait! I still have questions!" Whatever questions he did have, however, died on his tongue as he woke up with a gasp. Looking around quickly, Erik realized he was right to have remained quiet as most of the opera house was below him on stage listening to the announcement of its new managers. Sighing in annoyance, he leapt to his feet and prepared himself for what was to come next. Should he still drop the backdrop on Carlotta? Should he make Christine a star? He was unsure of what to do, but he had to make a decision and fast as Carlotta was throwing the first of her many tantrums. He almost wanted to laugh, but held it in, knowing he would be caught should he make a sound.

Averting his eyes, Erik saw the one person he was hoping to avoid; Christine. She was as beautiful as he remembered, her eyes wide with wonder, and Erik almost growled when he figured out why. She had just seen her precious fop for the first time. Moving his gaze away from the only figure who could break his heart in such a way, he found himself studying the rest of the group surrounding the stage. There were the actors, the chorus girl's, the stage crew, and the ballerina's, as well as the costume and set designers. One person caught his eye right away, mostly because of her hair. The bright red, curly hair was piled atop her head, still managing to stick out at odd angles, despite her constantly fixing the stray hairs. Her eyes, while too far away to see what color they were, were narrowed in frustration, most likely because of her hair. It was obvious to Erik that she was a ballerina, due to her outfit matching that of the other dancers. She stood off to the side, not really interacting with the other people on the stage, nor really paying attention to the spectacle that was Carlotta. She just was. Her hand flew to her hair once more, trying to pull the stubborn hair into the position she wanted, but that wasn't what caught his eye. Her hand itself was covered in charcoal, making Erik almost smile at the thought of a fellow artist, especially a female artist. Most female artists were looked down upon by the rest of society due to the stigma attached, but it was obvious she didn't care much for stigma.

Dropping his gaze from the lone figure, Erik glanced back to the center of the stage to see Carlotta preparing to sing the aria from Hannibal. Grimacing to himself, he moved quickly to the backdrop and let it fall. Smirking at the retreating figure of the, now, ex- prima donna, Erik glanced once more to the red head standing off to the side. Not wanting to be so near his angel, Erik moved to the edge of the stage, standing almost directly above the mystery woman. While she looked familiar, he couldn't, for the life of him, remember her name. Hearing Christine begin to sing made him want to cry, but before he could bring himself to flee the scene, a blonde girl moved to the red haired woman's side. Focusing on the two women, Erik didn't have to strain too much to hear they're words.

"Finally! Carlotta's gone and all it took was a backdrop falling on her! If I had known that, I would have done it myself long ago." The blonde moaned in fake agony. The red haired woman began to laugh, and Erik was sure he'd never heard such a beautiful laugh in his life.

"Oh Marie, you know you would have had to beat me too it!" His mystery woman replied. Erik let a small smile take over his features, her voice just as heavenly as her laugh.

"Oh please, Aria, you don't have a mean bone in your body!" Marie said. Erik held his breath in shock. Could it be?

Flashback

"W-who is she?" Stuttering out the question, Erik waited, impatiently, for the answer.

"She is your muse, your angel, your _aria_."

End Flashback

For all he knew, it could just be a very large coincidence, but was it? Could this woman, Aria, be the woman he was destined to be with? Gazing at the red haired woman softly, Erik knew there was only one way to find out; he would study her and determine if she was indeed his one true love, and maybe, just maybe, he would get his happy ever after.


	2. Chapter 2

**Welcome back to the Price is Right! I mean… Welcome back to The Phantom's Aria! I would like to apologize for all the spelling and grammar mistakes in the first chapter. I wasn't paying too much attention to it and when I reread that chapter I about had a heart attack. But, I will go through every chapter, once the story is finished, and fix all grammar and spelling mistakes. And if most of you skipped this, mostly likely all of you, then please read the next part at least…**

 **PLEASE READ! Do I have your attention? Good. This story will be written, mostly, from the point of view of Aria, my OC. The first chapter was written in Erik's POV because I needed to introduce my idea for the story. From this chapter on, there will be a few moments where I switch to Erik's POV so we can all see what he's thinking, because we ALL want to know what he's thinking.**

 **PLEASE KEEP READING! Don't hate me for this long authors note, please :). On a different note, I will be posting a poll on my page. Please vote so I can keep the story rolling, okay? The poll will be as follows; Should Christine be jealous of Aria's newfound relationship with her "angel of music"?**

 **Disclaimer: I do NOT own the Phantom of the Opera, sadly. If I did, Erik would be mine (so hands off all you phangirls! (: )**

Chapter Two

Aria McCade, was a normal girl. At least, that's what she told herself. Everyone who knew the girl would tell you otherwise, but she didn't let that bother her. While most women carried around their favorite perfume or some spare change, Aria carried some paper and a charcoal pencil. While some people would prefer to spend the cold winter nights inside near a fire, Aria spent hers on the roof of the opera house, drawing the landscape covered in snow. While most people would say a female artist was on the low end of the spectrum, she would tell them to 'stuff it'. Suffice it to say, she was anything but normal.

Aria was a woman above her time, constantly being ridiculed, yet not seeming to care. That was one of the many reasons why most people tended to avoid her at the populaire. She was _different_. Her only friend was a fellow ballerina; Marie Desmond. Both girls met when they first started at the Opera Populaire as students. Marie was the only person to not judge Aria based on her personal interests. Even Aria's own father, Jean McCade, couldn't handle Aria, so he sent her to the ballet corps. Aria, while she enjoyed dancing very much, loved to draw. If allowed, she would spend all day drawing, not even bothering with the pesky breaks her friend called 'meal time'. In fact, it was probably only because of Marie that Aria was still alive. When Aria got the inspiration for her next master piece, it was usually at the most inopportune times. Occasionally she would get her inspiration as she was crossing the street, the horses, while kind natured, tended to not stop for a lone figure in the way… Marie would always be with her to pull her out of harm's way, shaking her head in disbelief as she did so. In Aria's defense, if she didn't immediately begin the drawing, she would forget her inspiration and wouldn't be able to finish. It was precarious work, but it had to be done.

At this particular moment, Aria had gone to the roof, once again, to draw the street below from a different angle. Rehearsal for the opera _Hannibal_ , had finished quite a while ago, and Aria found herself bored from the monotony of socializing, so she packed her supplies into her favorite cloth bag and made her way to the roof. The sun was lingering over the horizon, just barely peeking out across the way. A slight huff came from the woman leaning, dangerously, over the edge of the opera house. The angle at which she was drawing was perfect, but she couldn't quite get the entrance to the magnificent building right. Normally Marie would follow Aria to the roof, knowing that she cared more about her art than her own personal safety, but Marie had been invited to dinner by the bread maker's son down the way.

Unbeknownst to Aria, however, there was an "angel" of sorts watching out for her. It had been two weeks since the resident Phantom discovered his newest fascination, and as much as she fascinated him, she terrified him just the same. For someone so in tune to the nature around her, she could be so oblivious to the danger she faced on a near constant basis. Currently, Erik was watching from the shadows as Aria leaned even further over the edge, balancing by the tips of her toes as only a ballerina could. There was a smidge of charcoal along the curve of her brow, from her repeated attempts to tame her wild hair, and Erik, despite his paralyzing fear that she would fall, found it to be endearing.

Aria let out a frustrated growl. Erik couldn't help but smirk at that, as her "growl" sounded more like small feline than anything. The red haired woman stepped back into her regular position, her feet returning to first position out of habit. No matter how many times she drew the front entrance, she couldn't get it to look right. She looked around briefly, trying to figure out how to get a better angle without planting her face into the cement below her, when her eyes alighted on the stone gargoyle at the corner of the roof. If she could climb to the top of the gargoyle, she would have the perfect angle! Smiling widely at her discovery, Aria moved to begin the climb, not once thinking about the massive drop to the ground below. Erik's eyes grew wide as she started her climb up the statue. At the rate at which she was going, he'd never be able to meet the red haired woman; she'd be dead before he could. Neither of them had to worry, however, as at that moment in time, Marie stepped out onto the roof let out a sigh.

"Aria! What did I tell you? You were not to come to the roof before I returned. You promised me you would wait." Marie didn't look shocked to find her friend halfway up the stone gargoyle, only frustrated that she was breaking her promise. Aria, for her part, merely shrugged and stepped carefully back down to the roof. Marie rolled her eyes at her friend's antics before taking her arm and dragging her off the roof before she got herself killed. Erik, having been watching Aria for many days now, thanked whatever god was above that Marie knew Aria so well. He decided that if saints did exist, Marie was one of them. Sighing in relief, Erik began the trek back down to his home, praying that Aria would live through the night. She was definitely going to keep him on his toes.

 **So? Did you like it? Please review! It would mean so much to me! And vote on the poll on my profile!**


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